


breathe me in, breathe me out

by nightingale13



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Asthma, Asthmatic Harry Styles, Chronic Illness, M/M, larrystylinson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25796431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightingale13/pseuds/nightingale13
Summary: Harry is part of the most successful boyband in the world.  Although he’s gifted at singing, he, unfortunately, did not acquire the same talent for breathing-- and it does not help that stress is one of his main asthma triggers.Or Harry has asthma and sometimes forgets to take care of himself.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 34
Kudos: 134





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! felt like writing an asthma story-- there's something cathartic about writing a story with a character who faces problems similar to your own. I hope you guys like it!

When Harry was in primary school, he remembers many kids having to go to the nurse to use an inhaler, or sit out in gym class when they were sick. One of his good friends even had asthma. But they all somehow grew out of it. 

Unlike his peers, Harry seemed to “grow into” his asthma.

For as long as he can remember, Harry would get winded when he climbed stairs. He always put it down to running a little too excitedly up the many flights of stairs at his school. The same happened when he was playing footie. His chest would grow extremely tight, and his coach would yell at him for slacking off. He decided he was likely just nervous under the coach’s pressure.

Harry seemed to always catch colds when he was younger and had a perpetual cough. But he was fine. Everyone got sick, right?

The fall of year ten was when Harry began to notice the worsening of these symptoms. He caught an awful bout of bronchitis or a cold of some sort, and just couldn’t seem to shake this new cough. It was constant, interrupting school lectures during the day, and preventing him from sleeping at night. 

Sometimes Harry would lay completely still in bed at night, but his lungs would be working overtime as if he had just finished a marathon. Harry put it off to anxiety and tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation. 

One night was particularly bad. It had started as a small tickle in his throat, but it quickly progressed to a coughing fit that refused to cease, leaving him trying to pant in small gasps of air when possible. 

Frightened, he staggered into his mother’s room. It was the early hours of the morning, so his mother was resting peacefully in her bed. However, as soon as Anne heard the disturbing coughing and gasping coming from her son, she jumped out of bed.

“Harry?”

Harry couldn’t respond. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

Anne was quick to switch on the lamp that sat on her bedside table, moving quickly to her son. 

“Shh, sweetie, what’s wrong?”

Harry thought this was obvious. He clearly couldn’t breathe. But he also was unable to tell his mother that.

Instead, Harry took his hand and brought it to his shirt, trying to rip off the stifling fabric.

When Anne realized what was wrong, she pulled Harry towards herself, maneuvering him so that she had one arm wrapped around his middle. 

Anne tried to stifle her fear, but it still bled through in her voice. “Harry, it’s okay, you’ll be okay, darling. We need to go to the hospital, okay? Can you walk to the car if I help you?” 

Harry nodded as best he could, beginning to struggle even more to breathe. His chest felt like it was being compressed from both sides by solid steel, sharp pains starting to stab through his lungs as they pleaded for more oxygen.

Anne hauled Harry into the back of the car, as he was struggling to walk on his own at this point, and immediately made her way to the steering wheel. She sped to the nearest hospital, glancing in her rearview mirror often to ensure her son was still breathing. 

As Harry sat in the back of the dark car, his vision was starting to become blurry. His heart was beating much too fast, and he was so tired. So very tired. He let his eyes close, just as Anne pulled to the curb of the hospital.

“Help! Please, my son can’t breathe! Please!” Anne cried, dragging Harry’s limp body from the car. 

Emergency medical workers arrived on the scene quickly, putting Harry onto a stretcher and wheeling him into a back room. 

Anne tried to run after her son, but she was stopped by a nurse.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but you can’t go with him. We’ll give you an update as soon as we can,” The hospital worker said, remorsefully. 

“Does he have any history of asthma or another chronic lung disease?”

Anne just shook her head, “no.” Her baby boy had always been perfectly healthy, besides the occasional cold or flu.

With a quick pat on the shoulder and a “he’s in good hands, Ma’am,” the nurse left, needing to attend to other patients.

Anne collapsed into a crying heap on the floor. She was beyond frightened for her son. 

Meanwhile, Harry was beginning to come to.

Something was covering his mouth and nose, and he wanted it off! He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe couldn’t breathe couldn’t--

“Shh, sweetheart we’re going to fix you all up, you’ll be okay,” a kind voice murmured to him as he began to panic. 

Through his cloudy vision, Harry saw a young woman staring down at him, gently brushing through his soft curls with her fingers.

His chest was so tight and he was wheezing and gasping and what if it never stopped?

He was so scared, so scared. He was going to die. A chorus of _I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die,_ repeated endlessly in his head.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the nurse squeezing his hand.

“We are about to put in an IV, and it will give you some medicine that will help you breathe more easily, okay?”

Harry tried to nod, but even that little movement required more energy than he had left. 

“You have a mask on right now that’s giving you some oxygen, but we’re going to give you a different one that gives you more medicine, instead,” the nurse calmly explained to him.

He could see a few doctors and nurses scattered around him, hooking him up to monitors and tubes and conversing rapidly with one another. 

The nurse continued to rub his head, soothingly, as she prepared a different mask and machine for him. 

“It’s going to be a little harder to breathe for a second, but this will help a lot. I promise.”

The nurse carefully removed the oxygen mask from where it sat on Harry’s face, and Harry could have sworn that the walls were collapsing in on him. How could there be any less air in the room?

As panic filled Harry to the brim, the nurse swiftly placed a new mask on his face, helping to prop him up a bit more before turning on the machine. 

A fine mist slowly began to spurt from the tubing of the mask. It tasted almost sickly sweet, and as it entered his airways, Harry could feel his heart rate gradually speeding up. 

_This must be the end,_ he thought. _This nurse is poisoning me and I’m going to die and my last breath will be of this sickly sweet air--_

And then suddenly, he felt his chest muscles start to relax. 

“That’s much better, right, sweetheart?” The nurse kindly asked, while brushing some of Harry’s sweaty curls off his face. 

Harry nodded shakily, collapsing on to the bed he had been placed on, finally able to draw in a decent breath. It was still gaspy and shaky, but it was _air._

He lay there for a few minutes, simply relishing in the feeling of being able to breathe again. 

Gently tugging on the nurse’s hand to catch her attention, he weakly pointed to his chest. His heart was beating so fast, still.

She gave him a small smile, “Is your heart racing? That’s perfectly normal, it’s just a side effect of the medicine. It should go away soon.”

As the minutes passed, Harry slowly found himself drifting off to sleep, exhausted from the ordeal.

He awoke awhile later to a constant beeping near his ear, a strange pressure on his finger, and an uncomfortable tickling sensation in his nose. 

Harry’s nose scrunched up in confusion, his hand working its way up to his face to try to find the source of discomfort. 

“Harry, baby, are you awake?” 

_That was his Mum’s voice… Where was he?_

Heavy eyelids slowly lifted to reveal bright, green eyes, slightly dulled from fatigue. 

“Mum?” Harry managed to get out, albeit quietly, “What happened? Why am I here?”

His voice was raspy, his throat felt a bit sore, and his chest felt bruised.

Anne gave her son a sad smile, “You were having some trouble breathing, so we had to take you to the hospital.”

Harry met his mother’s soft gaze, confused. 

“Oh,” he said, simply.

“They think you have asthma, they’re going to keep you here until your oxygen levels rise a bit more, and then they want to do some Pulmonary Function Testing to confirm the diagnosis,” His mother told him, kindly.

“But,” Harry began with a sigh, “I’ve never had asthma before. Why now? Isn’t it something you’re born with?” 

Anne gave a small shake of her head, “The doctor came in a little while ago, he told me this can happen. I’m sorry I didn’t bring you in sooner, I thought it was just a bad cough, I can’t believe I could have…” Anne swiped the back of her hand across her eyes, trying to stifle tears, “All that matters is you’re okay now. We’ll get you started on some medicine, and you’ll be good as gold.”

Gently squeezing his Mum’s hand, Harry gave her a reassuring smile. 

“I’ll be good as gold.”

***

Harry was released from the hospital at the end of the next day, a stack of prescriptions and checkup notices in hand. He had an appointment in one month to assess his lung function and to determine his response to the medication, and establish the severity of his asthma.

He left feeling scared and unsure. What if that happened again? Where he couldn’t breathe and the world seemed to be collapsing around him?

For the first month, Anne ensured that Harry strictly adhered to his medication regimen. Every day started and ended with two puffs of his steroid inhaler; throughout the day, he used his rescue inhaler as necessary. And it helped-- so when Harry and his mother made their way to his one-month checkup, they were quite surprised to hear that his lung function was lower than it should be.

“I think our best course of action is to prescribe a daily nebulizer treatment to help loosen Harry’s airways. He would only require a treatment once in the morning and once in the evening, and hopefully, that will help to improve his day-to-day functioning,” the doctor declared.

Anne nodded in agreement, but Harry was quite unhappy to receive this news. He already had to take a daily inhaler-- why did more have to change? He was fine. Perfectly fine. He had not had one of those coughing-wheezing-gasping fits since he had returned from the hospital. Not one of that severity, at least. 

So after returning home with his new nebulizer and treatment plan, Harry immediately decided that he’d be completely fine without the additional treatments.

For the following year, Harry told his mother that he was taking his nebulizer treatments, and she believed him. 

And for the most part, Harry was completely fine. Sure, he had the occasional stubborn cough or woke in the night with a tight chest, but he was _fine_. His mother needed to stop worrying so much.

***

Another year passed and found Harry a part of what was to become the biggest boyband in the world. 

He had quickly become very close with the four boys he had been grouped with, especially Louis. The five boys bonded over sweets and fizzy drinks at the Styles’ bungalow, joking about school and relationships and embarrassing memories. 

Harry was sitting next to Louis when he began to feel an uncomfortable tickle in his throat. He immediately brushed it off-- it must be from all of the laughing or the fizzy drink he had just downed. 

“You’re seriously afraid of spoons, Liam?” Louis laughed.

Harry chuckled along with the other boys, and Liam let out an exasperated sigh.

“It’s not funny! God, I thought I could trust you guys, guess they put me with a bunch of immature wankers,” Liam rolled his eyes, playfully.

His chest was starting to get tight. Why was it getting tight? Maybe it was… no, it couldn’t be, he hadn’t had any issues in over a year… but could it be?

Niall laughed loudly, drawing Harry from his thoughts. 

Rubbing his chest to try to relieve some of the tightness, Harry leaned slightly against Louis. 

“You okay?” Louis murmured to him, quietly.

Harry gave a weak nod. He was fine. 

Louis took Harry’s word for it, rejoining the conversation.

“Okay, okay, so if you could go…” Zayn interrupted. 

Harry stifled a cough.

“ … definitely dinosaurs, mate…” Liam responded.

He couldn’t hold it back any longer, the cough slipping through his lips, quietly.

“What about…”

Harry had hoped that the cough would relieve the tickle in his throat, but alas, it was to no avail. His cough quickly progressed into another cough, which soon progressed into a relentless coughing fit.

His chest felt so tight, and the few breaths he managed to take between coughs were shallow and wheezy.

“Harry?” The four boys looked on in concern, as their friend began to gasp for breath.

Louis was quick to intervene when he noticed his friend struggling, “Liam, go get Anne, tell her that Harry can’t breathe!” 

Liam stood in shock for a moment, before hurrying off to get Anne. 

“Maybe he’s allergic to something?” Zayn suggested, worriedly. 

Louis ignored Zayn’s comment, choosing instead to help Harry sit up straighter so he could get more oxygen into his system, “Hey, shh, Harry, you’re gonna be okay, we’re getting your mum, and you’re going to be okay, I promise…”

His vision was starting to go hazy around the edges… he felt like he was floating. No, not floating-- drowning. 

The three boys looked on fearfully as Harry fought for breath.

_I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die because I didn’t take my stupid medication, I’m going to die because I didn’t take my stupid medication, I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to--_

Suddenly, a pair of soft hands were holding his face. 

_Mum._

“Baby, I’ve got you, I need you to take a deep breath in when I tell you to, okay?”

With the little energy Harry had left, he feebly nodded, taking a breath in when his mother instructed him to do so.

_It’s not working, it’s not working, why isn’t it working?_

“Shh, love, you need one more puff,”

_It’s not working, it’s not working, it’s not… Oh._

As the medication finally reached Harry’s constricted airways, they began to loosen, allowing him to take in a few, shallow breaths. 

He sat there for a moment, simply breathing, while his friends watched on, shocked. Anne swiftly dug through Harry’s closet, pulling out his untouched nebulizer.

She emptied a nebule she had grabbed from downstairs into the nebulizer cup, quickly switching the machine to, ‘on,’ before bringing the plastic mouthpiece of the nebulizer up to Harry’s mouth, and waving off Harry’s friends’ offers to help.

The other boys made their way out of the room to give the duo some privacy.

Anne held the mouthpiece for Harry, letting him focus solely on inhaling the medicine. She ran her fingers through his sweaty locks, attempting to calm down her frightened son.

They sat in silence until the treatment sputtered to an end, the only sound remaining being Harry’s ragged, uneven breaths.

Exhausted, Harry slumped onto his mother’s shoulder, relishing in his ability to breathe freely. 

He cuddled close to her, wanting to be held after the disconcerting ordeal. 

Anne pulled him close as he began to cry, quietly sobbing in pure relief of being able to _breathe._

“Don’t you ever do that again, baby,” Anne whispered into Harry’s hair.

Harry merely nodded.

He would never do that again.

***

That was a lie.

Although Harry began to take his medication properly, under strict watch by his protective mother and bandmates, his lungs didn’t seem to care.

Harry awoke many nights with a tight chest and a dry cough, struggling to exhale fully. It felt like there was air stuck in the bottom of his lungs. 

But Louis always ensured that he nipped it in the bud before it could progress to a full-blown attack.

Harry made it through the X-factor without any major attacks, after the one at the Styles’ bungalow.

Sure, he experienced daily exacerbations of his symptoms, but he was never _afraid_ the same way he had been at the bungalow or the hospital.

He didn’t have any major attacks on their first tour as One Direction, either.

No, it wasn’t until their first world tour began that Harry would find his luck had fallen short.


	2. chapter two

“Louis, shut up, I am not wearing  _ that  _ on stage!”

Louis stood before Harry in the sitting room, holding a shiny, gold thong, laughing hysterically.

“But Harry! You wear them around the house all the time! You’re  _ so  _ golden!”

Harry gave his most menacing glare in response, which looked more like a cute puppy who had been kicked.

“But what if you guys pants me during ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ again? Imagine the wrath of management we’d have to face, I just…”

Harry shook his head slightly, joining Louis in his fit of laughter.

Louis pulled him close until their foreheads were touching, hot breath warming each others’ lips.

“God, I love you, Lou,” Harry whispered.

Louis’s smile became even larger at that, “I love you too, Haz.”

Harry pulled his boyfriend in for a long kiss, only stopping when he felt his chest growing a bit tight, a breathless feeling overcoming him.

“You alright, Haz?” Louis asked, noticing that Harry, who was normally a very passionate kisser, had pulled back from him and was taking ragged breaths.

Harry waved him off, “Yeah, Lou, ‘m fine. Just tired.”

Louis quickly accepted Harry’s explanation-- they had stayed up  _ very _ late the past few nights.

“C’mon, we should go get ready for the concert,” Louis said, grabbing Harry by the hand and gently pulling him to their shared room.

“Yeah,” Harry followed him to their bedroom, stumbling a few times out of clumsiness, “I gotta find something more  _ appropriate  _ to wear for tonight.”

***

The concert was set to start in ten minutes, but instead of being huddled up with the other boys doing their usual pre-show ritual, Harry had locked himself in the backstage bathroom.

Harry’s chest felt tight as he splashed cold water on his face.

“Harry?” Louis’s voice rings through the bathroom wall, to which Harry responds with a small, “yeah?”

“You alright in there?”

“Yep, just fine, really needed a wee, I’ll be out in a minute.”

He can hear Louis walking away from the bathroom, and breathes a sigh of relief. The last thing he wants right now is for Louis to worry about him.

***

The show has gone on without a hitch. The boys are having fun, the fans are great, and the concert’s almost complete.

_ I can do this,  _ Harry thought to himself, as the band began their closing number, “Best Song Ever.”

In just a few minutes, he would be in the band’s van, curled up in the arms of his boyfriend. He’d be just fine. He had to be, right?

His chest was just a little tight. No big deal.

But as the song continued, it started to hurt. 

It began as a dull ache in his lungs, making singing his parts of the song slightly more challenging. But then it had progressed from a dull ache to a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest.

Harry brought his fist up to his chest, rubbing on his sternum to try to relieve some of the pressure.

He couldn’t stop singing, though. He wasn’t weak.

Liam looked on, worriedly, as Harry tried and failed to mask his pain.

“You alright, mate?” Liam asked, pulling his microphone away from his mouth as the song concluded.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” Harry responded, breathless, although it was evident to Liam that he was not fine if the shaking in his hands was any indication.

Liam just shook his head slightly, giving Harry a friendly pat on the back.

“Come on, Nialler is wrapping up tonight, let’s start to head back.”

Harry’s chest was starting to grow tighter. But he didn’t want to seem weak. He couldn’t. Harry Styles was not pathetic.

So he simply nodded, quickening his pace so that he could exit the stage as soon as possible.

“Harry!” He heard fans yell.

So he stopped and gave a quick, “thank you,” to a particularly overeager group of fans, clasping his hand together and taking a small bow of thanks.

_ I need to get off, this is bad, this is bad, this is bad-- _

“Thank you for coming out tonight! We love you all!” He heard Niall yell, and then they were running up a ramp to the exit, and, oh-- it wasn’t this steep earlier, was it?

By now his airways were closing up and he was starting to cough, and Harry wasn’t so sure he could make it those final few feet up to the platform.

_ I can’t be weak. _

Harry began to stumble over his feet a bit, and he seriously questioned whether he would be able to make it backstage. 

But luckily, Liam came from behind him with a hand on his back, practically lifting him to the platform.

And finally,  _ finally _ , he could let go.

So he slumped against the wall as the platform slowly descended, the other boys waving “goodbye” to the crowd. 

Harry could feel Louis’s eyes boring into him, knew that he must be concerned, but gosh, Harry was tired, and there was no air left in the room.

As the platform sank below the stage, he could feel bodies crowding around him.

There’s a comforting hand running up and down his back, and he can hear voices shouting out incoherent sentences around him.

But the only thing he can focus on are his gasping breaths-- there is not enough air, there’s not enough air,  _ there’s not enough-- _

Suddenly, he can feel the plastic mouthpiece of his inhaler being pressed into his mouth, and can vaguely make out a voice telling him to “breathe” when they tell him to. 

And he can do that, right? 

So, he uses all of his remaining strength to take a deep breath.

“Hold it, Haz, you’ve got to hold your breath, sweetheart,”

But that’s stupid, why would he hold his breath, he needs more air, not less!

He’s shaking his head and tears are burning in his eyes, but Louis is telling him to hold his breath and he can’t let him down.

“Okay, you can release it now, Haz. Come on, love, it’s okay, just need to wait a little bit longer, and then I can give you another puff, okay?”

But Harry needs another puff  _ now. _ So his shaking hands flail frantically in front of him, trying to find the red plastic puffer.

“Harry,  _ Harry,  _ you need to wait, or the medicine won’t go into your lungs. I know it’s scary, but you just need to wait a little longer.”

So Harry gasps and wheezes as Lou rubs soothing circles on his back. It’s become a bit easier to breathe, but not enough.

“Okay, okay, Haz. I’m gonna give you another puff, alright?”

And then Louis is pressing down on the metal canister, and the sickly sweet aerosol enters his mouth. 

“Hold it, Hazza, come on.”

He can’t let Louis down now, so he holds his breath, his cheeks puffing out and his chest heaving.

He holds it for what seems like an eternity, before Louis tells him, “It’s okay,” and that he can “let it out, let it all out, darling, it’s alright.”

Harry lets his eyes sink shut, slumping back against the warm body behind him, waiting for the medicine to fully kick-in. It’s getting considerably easier to breathe, and he can feel the medicine working.

When his chest no longer feels like it’s about to burst, he opens his eyes, to be met with Louis’s own piercing blue ones. 

“Gosh, Haz, you scared me. Is the medicine helping enough, or do we need to go to the hospital?”

Harry gave a little shake of his head.

“It’s… okay,” He huffed out, “...home?

“Of course, love,” Louis responded immediately. 

Harry tried to stand up to walk, but Louis quickly shut him down. If Louis had not, his body would have, anyway.

“Liam and I’ve got you, baby,” Louis says, soothingly, and then Harry notices that Liam has been sitting behind him this whole time, the comforting body that had been holding him upright.

“Let’s get you back to the bus, hmm? Then I’ve got to give your doctor a call.” 

Normally, Harry would protest, but he’s so exhausted that he concedes rather easily.

Liam and Louis heft him up, each supporting underneath his arms, essentially carrying him out to the tour bus.

Harry must not remember the ride to the hotel, because suddenly he’s sitting on a soft, hotel bed, and Louis is holding a glass of water to his lips.

“Come on, love, small sips, don’t want you getting too dehydrated. You need lots of water when you use your albuterol.”

Harry wants to argue, and tell Louis that he’s  _ fine _ , but he still doesn’t feel fine, and he knows Louis is right.

“I talked to your doctor,” Louis continues, “She wants you to do a breathing treatment tonight, and we’ll reevaluate in the morning. Okay?”

Harry gives a tiny nod of acknowledgment, slumping against a pillow once Louis has deemed him to be reasonably hydrated.

He barely feels Louis slipping off his concert attire, and pulling his legs into a pair of soft sweatpants. Then, he’s running a cool towel over his sweaty body, for which Harry greatly appreciates.

He hears a tear as Louis opens a nebule and a small ‘click’ as he closes the medicine compartment. Then an itchy, plastic mask is being slipped over his face, and Harry is scrunching his nose up because Louis  _ knows _ that he hates using a mask, and would much rather use a mouthpiece, but Louis just says, “I know, darling,” and flicks the switch of the machine to ‘on.’

Then, a warm body is pressed against his own, and he can feel a pair of strong arms wrap around his waist.

“I love you, Haz,”   
  


And Harry wants to reply, but the exhaustion is kicking in, so he gives a little nod. He’s too tired to be bothered by the persistent whirring of the machine, or the way the medicine makes his heart race. No, right now, all he can think about is sleep and the warmth of Louis holding him tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that it took so long for me to update!! got really caught up in school. hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think!!! xx


	3. and it's alright, calling out for somebody to hold tonight

Louis wakes to the sound of shallow breathing. 

“H?” He whispers into the darkness of the hotel room.

Harry doesn’t respond.

Louis gives his shoulder a small shake, “Harry, wake up love.”

And then Harry is trying to sit up, and he’s coughing so harshly that Louis has to maneuver him up by his armpits.

“Love? Can you use your inhaler?” 

But Harry is shaking his head, “no, no, no,” so Louis quickly leaves his side to grab the nebulizer from the bedside table.

Harry’s crying now as Louis sets up the machine, and Louis wishes his hands could move faster.

“Shh, Haz, it’s okay, I’ve got you, I’m right here, love.”

Louis tries to pull the nebulizer mask over Harry’s head, but now he's panicking, too.

“L’uh…nuh...no, please…” 

Louis knows how much Harry hates the mask, but he doesn’t think he’s in a position to hold the mouthpiece still.

“Haz, I know, it’s okay love, it’ll help.”

Louis sits behind Harry, holding him so that his chest is upright.

Harry is still crying, and although the wheezing is starting to fade, Louis can tell that he’s worked himself into a panic attack.

He’s silent now, no longer crying, the only sound being his rushed, ragged breaths.

Harry’s eyes look glazed over but full of fear, and every muscle in his body is clenched.

Louis knows that at this point, physical contact will not help Harry. But at the same time, moving from his position behind Harry might startle him too much.

So Louis stays very still and does his best to walk Harry through the familiar grounding techniques.

“Five things you can see, love, I know you can do that for me.”

Harry’s eyes gaze around the room, too unfocused to find anything specific. He can hear Louis's voice, but it seems like it’s miles away, floating to him from a distant sea. 

His breathing accelerates as his eyes flit around the room, unable to focus on something specific.

“Shh, love, shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m right here. Do you want me to keep holding you, or do you need some space?”

“Stay,” Harry manages to gasp out between pants, the mask fogging up as he speaks.

“Okay, love, I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

Harry curled himself until he was as small as possible, practically burrowing into Louis’ arms. Louis could feel his boyfriend shaking against him, but all he could do was keep murmuring sweet nothings in his ear and gently running his fingers through his hair.

They stayed in that position until Harry finally wore himself out, falling limp against Louis as he succumbed to sleep. 

“Shh, baby, I’ve got you. It’s all gonna be okay.”  
***

“Hi, this is Louis Tomlinson, I was calling to schedule an appointment for Harry Styles?”

The telephone operator's voice was too bright and squeaky, Louis thought, for this early in the morning, but he knew that Harry needed this appointment as soon as possible. Even after Harry had fallen back to sleep, Louis laid awake listening to his boyfriend’s wheezing breaths, terrified that he would have another attack. 

He could hear the operator shuffle around before the phone was eventually passed to whom he presumed to be Harry’s doctor.

“Hello, is this Mr. Tomlinson?”

Louis let out a sigh of relief, “yes, this is he.”

“The on-call doctor spoke to you yesterday night, correct?” The doctor asked, to which Louis responded in the affirmative.

“Is Harry still experiencing symptoms?”

Louis was quick to respond.

“Yeah, yesterday night he woke up and had another attack, and he’s been wheezing ever since. I’m a bit concerned, honestly, he usually bounces back pretty quickly after an attack.”

The doctor hummed to herself on the other end of the line,  
“Hmm, that does sound a bit concerning. I’d like to bring him in to have him evaluated, I have a slot open at 9:00 AM if you are available.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, thank you.” Louis hurriedly replied.

“Of course. He seems to be overdue on his pulmonary function testing anyway, it would be a good idea to assess him.”

Louis and the doctor sorted out details, before hanging up.

Louis sighed to himself, running his fingers through his hair. Harry hated going to the doctors. He seemed to have a fear of it, although he would never admit it.

Looking at the clock, Louis decided that he needed to wake Harry if they hoped to arrive at the appointment on time.

Rising from his place at the dining table, Louis made his way to their bedroom, where he found Harry curled beneath a pile of blankets, little huffs audible as he exhaled.

“Hi, love,” Louis began, gently running his fingers through Harry’s hair.  
“It’s time to wake up.”

Harry grumbled and rolled over, never one for early mornings, before attaching to Louis like a koala bear.

“Cuddle.” He mumbled out, pulling Louis’ arms around himself so that he could be the little spoon.

Laughing to himself, Louis agreed. He could never say no to his adorable boyfriend.

“Alright, only for a few minutes though, we have places to be.”

“Where?” Harry asked, sleepy and confused. He thought they had today off.

“Gotta take you to the doctor, my love, get you all fixed up.” 

At this, Harry tensed in Louis’ arms, his breathing starting to pick up.

“Hey, shh, love, everything is going to be okay, I promise. You gotta stay calm for me, though, I don’t think the extra anxiety will help your body right now.” He rubbed Harry’s arm soothingly, pulling him closer to his body to help ground him.

“Not going anywhere,” he said, listening to Harry’s breathing reduce in speed, evening out to his wheezy breaths that had been present all night.

“Come on, how about I help you get dressed and we can have a nice cuppa before we go, sound good?”

Harry nodded as Louis helped him to sit up, Harry sleepily rubbing his eyes to wake himself up more.

“Would you like a quick shower, love? Or shall we take one later?” Louis asked.

“Later,” Harry replied, standing up and pulling his boyfriend into a hug. “Want a bath later, with the bath bombs.”

“Yeah?” Louis laughed. “How about this, after your appointment, we can go out and get you a new bath bomb, alright?”

“Mhmm,” Harry agreed, pulling on a pair of joggers and one of Louis’ comfy gray sweatshirts.

The duo made their way into the kitchen, where Harry collapsed into a chair, exhausted, as Louis put the kettle on for tea. It was still early, but the doctor’s office was about an hour’s drive away from the hotel.

Louis placed Harry’s cup on the table, adding oat milk to the warm drink. 

“Are you hungry?” Louis questioned, to which Harry replied with a small shake of the head, “no.” He kept his eyes closed as he drank his tea, relishing in the warmth and the relief it provided to his still too-tight chest.

“Alright. Why don’t we get breakfast afterward, love? A nice little treat for you.”

Harry smiled at that, leaning over to give Louis a quick kiss.

“I love you, Lou.”

“I love you too, Haz. You ready to go?”

Harry nodded, standing from the chair and bringing his and Louis’ mugs to the sink.

He turned around as Louis helped him into a coat, and beanie, knowing he gets cold in the mornings. 

In the car, Harry stared out the window as Louis hummed along to the radio station. Whenever Harry began to tense, Louis gently squeezed his hand, rubbing soothing circles to keep Harry grounded.

When they arrived at the building, Louis could practically feel Harry’s nervousness. 

Knowing that the longer they waited, the more uncomfortable Harry would be, Louis was quick to go to the passenger door, and help Harry out of the car, putting an arm around his waist to lead him into the building. 

“It’s all going to be okay,” he murmured to Harry as they made their way into the building, and again as Harry’s name was called in the waiting room, and a final time as the duo waited anxiously for the doctor to arrive in the exam room.

Louis could tell that Harry was trying his best to stay calm, and he was so proud of him. He knew how difficult it must be. Louis made small talk to keep him distracted, telling him about ideas for future dates as Harry dozed on his shoulder.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door, Harry quickly jumping to attention and becoming alert as the doctor entered the room.

“Hi there, I’m Doctor Anderson, it’s nice to meet you, Louis, and nice to see you again, Harry.” The woman shook hands with the two men before making her way to a swivel chair in the corner. 

“So I’ve heard that you have been having some trouble with your asthma lately?”

Harry shyly nodded, turning to Louis for support, before explaining his recent issues.

“That sounds really uncomfortable, I’m sorry to hear that, Harry. Would you mind taking a seat on the table so I can examine you?”

Harry nodded again, pushing himself onto the table, listening to the paper crinkle under him as he sat. 

“I just want to listen to your lungs, alright?” 

Doctor Anderson took her stethoscope and moved it around Harry’s chest and back. The cold metal made Harry shiver, but he tried his best to stay still as she listened. 

“Can you take some deep breaths for me?” The doctor asked, repositioning the device. Louis noticed the small frown that appeared on her face when Harry struggled to take a deep breath, eventually ending in a small coughing fit.

Louis didn’t need a stethoscope to hear the wheezes coming from Harry. It scared him that Harry was struggling so much to breathe.

“Alright, I would like to run some pulmonary function tests on Harry. We’ll do it twice-- once right now, and then we’ll test a second time after giving you some medicine. Sound okay?”

Harry agreed half-heartedly, still exhausted from the coughing fit.

“Okay, let’s head down to the testing room,” Doctor Anderson gestured towards the door, guiding Harry into the hallway.

“You can stay here, Mr. Tomlinson, we’ll just be a little while.” 

Upon hearing this, Harry froze, looking over his shoulder at Louis in fear.

“I…”

Harry began, anxiety bubbling to the surface upon realizing that Louis would not be coming with him.

“You said… umm… stay?” Harry managed to get out.

The doctor looked at Harry, confused. 

“Yes, is that a problem?”

“Uhhh no, I just…” Harry began, fidgeting with his hands nervously, but Louis interrupted. 

“I think he’s just a bit nervous about going alone. Would I be able to come with him?”

“Oh, of course,” the doctor agreed, “you’ll just have to stay away from the equipment, yeah?”

The three made their way to a small room at the end of the hallway, where a seat was positioned before a large computer connected to tubes and wires. It did look a bit scary to Louis, and he understood Harry’s fear.

“First, I just need to take some vitals, alright?”

The doctor quickly took his pulse ox, blood pressure, and temperature, while Louis distracted his boyfriend with a funny story about Niall from the previous night’s concert.

“Okay, we’re all ready to start. Could you sit back here please, Mr. Tomlinson?” The doctor pointed to a chair in the back of the room, to which Louis quickly moved.

“Now, Harry, I know you’ve done this before, but remember that this test will not be painful. It might be a bit uncomfortable, but it will be over before you know it.”

Harry tried to nod, but instead just stared straight ahead at the screen, little wheezes still coming from his slightly parted lips. 

“I’m going to put this clip on your nose, it might feel a little tight, but it’s just to keep the air from coming out of your nose.”

She placed the small, blue, clip onto Harry’s nose, effectively halting the flow of air from his nostrils.

Harry’s wheezes became more prominent now that he was unable to breathe through his nose, but he tried his best to remain calm, trusting the process.

“You just have to lean in towards this mouthpiece, alright? It’s just like your nebulizer.”

Doctor Anderson pulled up a program on the computer.

“Do you see this candle? You need to blow as hard as you can to get the flame to extinguish. I know it’s a little childish, but it’s what is most effective.”

Louis laughed quietly to himself in the back of the room, “Oh, don’t worry, he’s good at blowing.”

The doctor didn’t hear, but Harry turned around, eyes wide, clearly exasperated.

“Ready to start?” 

The doctor led Harry through a series of similar tests, eventually ending in a painful coughing fit that left Harry breathless and exhausted.

Louis came to his side and gently rubbed his shoulder once the doctor announced the completion of the test.

She led the two back to the exam room, giving them a moment of privacy while she went to collect the medication required for the next round of testing.

Harry sat hunched over in one of the hard, plastic chairs, trying his best to regain his breath as he wheezed painfully into his hands. Louis whispered to him softly as his body began to calm down, eventually relaxing and resting his head on Louis’ shoulder.

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being Harry's wheezy, labored breaths. Louis so badly wanted to offer Harry his inhaler, but he knew that would interfere with the testing.

A knock on the door startled the duo, Louis quick to answer with a, “come in!” 

Doctor Anderson entered the room with a bulky, table-top nebulizer.

“Hi Harry, we’re going to do a quick treatment before the second round of testing.”

Harry only nodded in response, too exhausted to reply verbally.

“Would you like to stay seated where you are?”

“Yes, please,” Harry whispered, appreciatively. 

The doctor set up the nebulizer on a small table beside Harry’s chair.

“The treatment should last about 15 minutes, and then I'll come to grab you for the second round of testing. Alright?”

Harry nodded, mouthpiece in hand as misty medicine began to flow through the tubing.

The doctor left, closing the door as Harry slouched against Louis, letting the medicine fill his lungs and ease his labored breathing.

Harry said something around the nebulizer mouthpiece, but Louis could not discern his words. 

“What was that, love?”

Harry simply closed his eyes, pointing to his chest.

When Louis still did not seem to understand, Harry took the mouthpiece out of his mouth. 

“‘s speedy,” he murmured.

“Oh, is your heart speedy, Haz?” Louis asked, knowing how Harry hated the way the medicine made his heart race. He gently guided the mouthpiece back into Harry’s mouth, before wiping off some sweat that had collected over his eyebrow. “Are you shaky, too?”

Harry nodded, and Louis was quick to pull his boyfriend closer to him, murmuring softly in his ear as they waited for the treatment to finish. The silence of the room was broken by periodic coughs from Harry and the noisy whirring of the nebulizer.

“Thanks for that lovely drool, darling,” Louis laughed, pointing to a wet spot on his shirt from where Harry lay.

Harry only rolled his eyes, too tired to defend himself. This concerned Louis-- Harry must be really feeling awful. 

As the machine sputtered the final few breaths of medicine, Harry let out a large sigh. 

“Tired, Lou. Wanna go home.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Louis replied, sadly. “Did the treatment help at all?”

Harry looked to be on the verge of tears as he shook his head, “It hurts, LouLou.”

Louis knew that Harry resorted to this more childish language only when he was feeling incredibly sick, which was very worrying. 

Doctor Anderson knocked on the door, before quickly re-entering.

“Let’s go do that second round of testing, yeah?”

The pair followed her once again to the testing room, Harry gingerly sitting in the testing chair.

All of the same tests were repeated, and Harry was once again left breathless and coughing.

The doctor frowned as results began to appear on the screen. 

“Harry, I'm just going to take a look at a few things again, alright? Let's head back to the exam room.”

Doctor Anderson asked Harry to hop up on the exam table as she gathered some supplies. 

“Just going to take a listen to your lungs again,” she said, putting the cold stethoscope onto Harry's chest. 

“Deep breaths, please.”

Harry tried his best to breathe deeply, but he was finding it increasingly difficult, each breath ending in a series of coughs. The doctor drew away, grabbing something else.

Harry looked up, fearfully, as Doctor Anderson approached him with another device. 

“I'm going to put this clip on your finger, it won't hurt at all, we used it earlier, remember?”

Harry nodded slightly, albeit shakily, and Louis and the doctor were quick to share a look of concern.

The doctor clipped the device onto Harry's finger, waiting for the results to appear on the small screen.

“Oh dear, you really must not be feeling well,” Doctor Anderson murmured, looking at the results. 

Harry sat dazed on the table until Louis gently helped him to his feet. He leaned against Louis, nearly asleep.

“Mr. Tomlinson, I don't feel comfortable sending Harry home as of right now. His pulse ox is quite low, and I believe he requires more care than can be provided at home.”

Louis nodded along, shocked, but willing to do anything to help his boyfriend.

“I'm going to expedite his tests so we can get results sooner. I'll make a call to the hospital and make sure they have a room ready for you.”

“Okay,” Louis managed, turning to look at his boyfriend who was currently slumped against his shoulder, not seeming to comprehend the situation.

“Can I ask you what's wrong?” Louis said, quietly.

Doctor Anderson shuffled around nervously, “Honestly, Louis, I'm unsure. But I do know that he requires immediate medical attention. Due to office policy, I'm required to call an ambulance to take him to the hospital.”

Louis was shocked. Was this all just asthma? How had Harry's condition deteriorated so quickly?

Harry stumbled against him, distracting him from his thoughts, “Lou, home, please,” he whispered, breaths wheezy and shallow.

“Why don't you two take a seat while we wait, okay? I'm going to stay here with you to help monitor his condition.”

She set up another nebulizer treatment while Louis sat down, pulling Harry into his lap.

“I'm sorry, love, but you're a little poorly so we can't go home yet. The doctors are going to take good care of you, they'll get you home in no time,” Louis told Harry, trying his best to remain calm despite his worries about the situation.

Harry let out a small grunt in response, not resisting as the doctor gave him the new nebulizer treatment, this time with a mask. 

Loud footsteps could be heard from the hallway, so Doctor Anderson quickly opened the door and led the paramedics into the room.

They easily slid Harry onto a stretcher, switching the nebulizer mask for oxygen. 

The group made their way downstairs and through the front entrance, Doctor Anderson further explaining the situation as they made their way to the ambulance.

“He’s 17, correct?” one of the paramedics asked Louis.

“Yeah, he’ll be 18 in a few weeks,” Louis replied, absentmindedly.

“We’ll make sure there’s a room for him in the pediatric unit, then. Sir, you may ride with us, I think it would help to keep him calm.”

Louis nodded, jumping into the back of the ambulance, holding Harry's hand with one hand and running his fingers through Harry's sweaty curls with the other. 

Harry made a noise in distress, trying to get closer to Louis, but Louis just soothed him, cradling his face in his hand. “Shh, it's alright, darling. I know it's scary, but I'm right here with you and they are gonna help you feel so much better.”

One of the paramedics started an IV, startling Harry. 

“I… d’know what's… goin on?” Harry croaked out.

Louis’s heart broke for his boyfriend. “I know, Hazza, I wish I knew. They're gonna take such good care of you, I promise I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry, darling.”

Harry closed his eyes, nodding off to sleep as the ambulance began to drive to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! sorry i took so so long to update, life has been crazy. i hope you are all doing well <3

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think!! if you like it, I'll keep adding to the story:)


End file.
